I feel a burst of panic when I look up from my phone and see Dr. Fleury watching from the doorway. I quickly shove it into the pocket of my lab coat and sit straighter in the soft round chair in front of her desk. She walks in, closing the door behind her, and makes her way to the desk. She’s got her trusty tablet with her and her reading glasses low on her narrow nose.
She sits down and props the tablet up on an empty coffee cup on her desk. It's a Christmas-themed one that has a gingerbread house molded into the ceramic and a gingerbread man as a handle. She has also changed the decorative pillows on the small loveseat by the window to ones with embroidered pine trees on them. She does that, theme decorates every season. It's her quirk. Dr. Fleury is a very no-nonsense person in just about every other way except decor.
“Has he been picked up yet?” she asks as she positions herself in her chair.
“Not yet, but the internet is buzzing with rumors of interested…” I stop talking. How does she know I was looking up Conner?
Madeline smiles. “So, for once, the hospital rumor mill is right. You’re dating Conner Garrison?”
“You heard that? My god this place is horrible.” I can feel my cheeks heating and I can’t look her in her big brown eyes.
“I’m a born and raised Silver Bay girl, Mac,” Madeline reminds me. “The Garrisons are our royal family. We’ve been waiting for our Prince to find his Kate Middleton.”
“I’m more of a Meghan Markle,” I reply and then shake my head. “Actually, I take that back. I’m more of a nothing. I am not dating Conner. We’re friends.”
“Oh.” Madeline blinks and her expression says she thinks I’m lying, to myself or to her, I’m not sure. And maybe I am, so I avert my eyes again. She drops the subject and taps her tablet. “Okay let’s go through your cases.”
We spend the next forty minutes talking about the patients I’ve been consulting on. When we’re done with work we start the part of the mentorship that involves my mental health. Madeline, who is probably in her late fifties, but looks about ten years younger, pulls off her reading glasses and leans back in her leather desk chair. “You’ve been working more shifts than necessary again.”
"Not again, still," I admit sheepishly. She's warned me before, sternly, about burnout. "I wanted people to be able to spend the holidays with their loved ones. I, no matter what Silver Bay General whispers, don't have any loved ones in town so I pulled a few doubles. It should settle down now."
Madeline nods slowly and her brown eyes bore into me as she assesses everything about me from my demeanor to my body language to the way I still can’t hold her gaze. “So, you’re nearing the end of your residency here. Have you given more thought to your next steps?”
"I wish I could stay a month in Hawaii and then maybe summer in the Hamptons before I decide what top-notch, already-established private practice I'll be joining," I quip and Madeline smiles at me. "But sadly, I am still deciding if I should go work with my mom at her charity or start my own practice in New York or… elsewhere."
She tents her fingers in front of her and nods. “The elsewhere part still Portland?”
I nod. "Yeah. I really like Maine… despite everything."
Madeline laughs. “Oh you mean Dr. Echolls?
I give her a small nod. I don’t know why I’m embarrassed. Madeline was the first person I told when Beckett cheated on me. I didn’t even tell Tenley, not the details, I just asked her if I could move into the empty apartment. Madeline knows every single gory detail and worse, she knows how it made me feel.
“Maine has a very under-served homeless community so I could definitely be of value,” I say. “I’ve been to Portland a lot and I like it. It’s got New York’s charm without the same population and… hustle.”
“Well, I didn’t want to have to sell you on it, and thankfully it looks like I won’t need to,” Madeline says, smiling as she leans forward and digs around on her desk for a thumb drive. She hands it to me and I take it and wait for more information. “I have a friend. Colleague. We went to school together. His name is Norman Bradley and he is opening a place in Portland based on the model of your mother’s charity. It will have youth services, but be open to all homeless trying to get back on their feet, especially those with addiction issues looking for help.”
“What? Seriously?” I can’t help but let my mouth fall open because this feels too good to be true. “He’s credible? Legit?”
"Very much so." Madeline nods firmly and her smile gets softer. "I know your history. I know why you have a need to stand on your own two feet, but everyone needs help finding their first job. Norman is like you, from the system, so he understands it on the same level as you and your mom and dad. He's looking for a couple psychiatrists to add to his team. That thumb drive has the presentation he gave me when he was trying to woo me to work for him. I am very happy staying here in Silver Bay but I told him about you and we both agree you'd be a perfect fit. It's got a step-by-step plan for how the charity will run. They've already bought the building and gotten grants from the state. A month or two after you graduate is when the place is projected to be up and running. Gives you time for that Hawaiian vacation.”
I laugh and press the thumb drive between my fingers, half expecting it to evaporate because, well, it’s too good to be true. My history has me drowning in pessimism on any given day. I work diligently to avoid it, but when I get shocked or surprised it’s my default factory setting. Madeline knows this too. She’s the one who advised me on the tips and tricks and mantras and brain training I use to avoid being a negative Nelly. “Check out the presentation. If you’re interested, give him a call. His number is in there. Also, consult your parents. He has had meetings with your mom when he was in the developmental phase so she knows him.”
"Okay. Yeah. I'll do all of that." I nod stand up and walk to the door.
“Mac?” Madeline calls and I glance over my shoulder at her as I reach for the door. “If you go on that Hawaiian vacation with Conner Garrison, can you get him to sign something for my son? He’s a huge fan.”
“Oh my God!” I laugh and Madeline joins in.
“His name is Dudley,” she calls as I leave her office. “Thought I’d just throw it out there!”
I’m still laughing and shaking my head as I head back to the psychiatric ward, the thumb drive next to my phone in the pocket of my lab coat. Once I’m off the elevator and have checked with the nurses on the status of my patients, I head to my office and call my mom.
“Hey baby!” she says as she picks up. “I’m in a meeting with your auntie Len. Say hi.”
"Hi Auntie Len," I call out to the woman who has been my mom's best friend her entire life. She's not her actual sister, but in our family blood ties mean little. Aunts, uncles, parents, and grandparents earn their titles from more than just blood bonds. "How are Uncle Mike, Essie, and Ethan?"
“We’re all good over here!” Len calls back. “How’s Conner Garrison? Rough day for him.”
What? “Umm… yeah. I guess. I don’t know how he is but I’m sure not good.”
“Mac, honey, can you tell me why I had to find out you’re dating him from a WAGs gossip site?” Mom asks. “Well, Aunt Len found out that way and told me.”
“It was an Insta account,” Len clarifies. “They sometimes mention Ethan on there. And they had the cutest throwback picture to Chooch in his rookie season the other day.”
Len also married a hockey player, like my mom. She married goalie Mike Choochinsky, who everyone calls Chooch, including her, which always makes me laugh. But I’m not in a laughing mood right now. “It’s on the internet?! Jesus. It’s not even accurate.”
“You’re not dating him?” My mom sounds disappointed. “He’s such a lovely boy.”
“No. I’m not… really.” I swallow and frown. “I mean we’re going on a date, to the hospital New Year’s party. And we…”
I am not about to tell my mom and Aunt Len about our foray into bed buddyhood. I shake my head. "It's not a thing. We are not a thing. God, that Heather has a big mouth. I can't wait for my residency to be done so I can leave Silver Bay, which is why I'm calling. Mom, do you know of a doctor named Norman Bradley?"
Mom’s voice gets high with excitement. “Yes! We had several conversations about a year ago. He came and volunteered at the charity for a month too. Smart and kind. Is he starting his foundation?”
“He is, and I might potentially be able to work with him,” I say and thankfully that gets my mom and my aunt off the topic of Conner and me and our impending date and fake relationship.
I feel more and more hopeful as my mom details all she knows about Dr. Bradley and his ideas for this Portland Foundation. I have to get off the phone to do rounds with the doctor on duty before Aunt Len can grill me about Conner again, thankfully.
After rounds, I make my way down the hall toward the break room and that’s when I glance at my phone to check on whether Conner has been picked up by a new hockey team. He hasn’t. The rumors are swirling now that he will, in fact, be sent to the minors and my heart clenches in sympathy. I know this is his biggest nightmare.
“Mac?”
I drop my phone into my lab coat pocket and turn to see who called my name. Callie Garrison is standing in the hall by the sign that points to the oncology wing. She's in an elegant black winter coat and what looks like a cranberry-colored homemade scarf and hat. Her cheeks are pink and I can tell she's just come in from the cold outside. Callie is a breathtaking woman. I've thought that from the moment I met her when I was a kid. She's not just beautiful with her big brown eyes and thick, glossy brown hair, wide mouth, and flawless skin, she's fierce, independent, and unashamed of who she is. I've never been intimated by her, but I've always been in awe of her.
“Hi! How are you?” I ask and start to walk toward her. “Is everything alright?”
It's more than a little weird she's in the hospital today. She nods and waves a gloved-covered hand in front of her face. "Oh yeah. Have a follow-up with Dr. Perry. I had cortisone shots in my back a few months ago for sciatica. I blame Liv and Mae. They were big babies and my body has never been the same."
I smile and nod. “The Orthopedic department is in the blue wing.”
She nods. “But you know, I’m happy I ran into you. I was going to ask you a favor.”
“Oh?” I can feel my eyebrows pinch. “Sure. You know I’d do anything for a Garrison.”
Somehow that sounds incredibly suggestive, even though I don’t mean it that way. Strange how putting Conner’s dick in my mouth has altered my perception. Callie squints at me. “Are you okay? You look… flushed.”
“I’m fine.” I wave a hand in front of my face. “I’ve just been running around all day. Lots of… work. Working hard.”
“Well, I promise not to keep you but I just… I heard you and Conner have become reacquainted in the short time he’s been back home,” Callie says and the look on her face is purposely diplomatic. I know instantly that she’s heard all the gossip too. Great. Ugh. Kill me now. “I’m not going to poke around in your private business, or Conner’s, although I will say I hope the rumors are true. But I also want to say, even if they aren’t, and you two are just acquaintances, I’m asking as a concerned stepmom who loves him like my own, can you keep an eye on him?”
“What? Yeah. I mean… how?”
“Conner is so much like his dad,” Callie confesses. “Prideful, stubborn, and also incredibly hard on himself. He isn’t used to failure. It’s kryptonite to his DNA and I just don’t want him to spiral more than he already is. Whether he’s picked up by a team tonight or not, he’s still going to take it hard. See the whole thing as a reflection that he isn’t good enough. Devin did that with his divorce and let me tell you, it was not pretty. He made all the wrong choices. Can you just…”
She pauses, her eyes dropping to the scuffed-speckled flooring and then back up to me. "I know you can't treat him, because of ethics and whatever, but can you monitor the situation? And just let me know if I need to intervene or get him someone like you. There are sports psychologists. I do not want him to lose himself like his dad almost did.”
I find myself nodding, even though it somehow feels a bit wrong. I remind myself she's not asking me to treat Conner, which I would never do. I was too close even before we saw each other naked. But I can, as his friend, keep an eye on him. She hugs me and I swear my ribs almost crack. Callie is a hell of a hugger. "Thank you, Mac. And don't be a stranger, okay? Please come by the house and hang out with Liv or Mayhem or even just me. You and I have a lot in common. I love your dad and mom and promised I would look out for you and I intend to."
“I’m good Callie, I promise,” I tell her. “But I might swing by when I’m not working. I’ve let my friendships kind of fall apart. It’s been easier to throw myself into work than face people after being cheated on.”
“Well, at least you realize what you’re doing and work isn’t that bad of a vice,” Callie says. “Devin threw himself into booze, puck bunnies, and self-loathing, which is what I’m worried about with Conner. Although he did go to the gym with Grady this morning so that was a productive choice.”
I nod because it is a smart choice. I should text him and check on him. Callie hugs me again, just as hard as the first time but briefer. And then she trots off down the hall. When she's gone from sight, I pull my phone out of my pocket and pull up Conner's number. We've messaged a few times since our Christmas morning sexcapade. In his last message, he said his phone would be off, but I texted him anyway. In case he decides to turn it back on.
I hit send and start walking. I make it three steps before the phone buzzes with a response.
Oh my god… well, I’m not about to stop him. I simply text him back a thumbs up. And, because I’m feeling as crazy as this whole thing with him, I add an eggplant emoji.